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Published:
on Oct 20 2008 @ 7:56 pm - Popularity: 939 views
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Category:
Thoughts, Humor, Standup, The Torture Series
The Torture Series 7 : Ashanti
Caution: Post contains sexual language and content.
It was a time when action had made its entry and was lapped up by one and all. The anger of the masses during the emergency, the entry of a Congress alternative for the first time at the helm of politics - the Janata Party and its subsequent fall out and the return of Indira Gandhi as our PM, the Naxalite movement, the unrest in Bengal, there was anger and it was yet to die down - this could be that one reason why everyone wanted to see someone beaten up. As long it wasn’t them, it was fun.
The degeneration of politics was on, and moving forward in top gear. Pranab Mukherjee, the then Minister of Economy, would come in each year to present the budget, with his trademark pipe sticking out from the corner …











If Jeetendra was at the helm of starting the 80s fire of cinematic depression, it were people like Mehul Kumar, Eesmayel Shroff, Pranlal Mehta, Mithun Chakraborthy and many others of the wonderful PKTK club, who willingly or unwillingly put ghee in the fire thereby increasing the depression to many many more years. But in ‘86 they would be joined by a kid, who God put in Viraar, hidden away from the PKTK club (Public Ko Torture Karo club)… for God knew, however talented the kid be, he had the power to turn PKTK’s fire of depression into a firestorm. Alas God could not keep him away from the evil eyes of PKTK.
They were the dark ages. Shockingly after an amazing 70s. Creativity was the last thing on everyones mind. No one cared. Hindi cinema was treated as a prostitute by those who had come in to make money. And that was their only objective. Dish out a 3 hour film to make money. Video had made it’s foray into India and almost overnight - video became the villain of the film industry. Video was made out to be the cause on why the Hindi film industry was suffering. Of course it was true, to an extent. Yet if one compares the number of illegal downloads of a new movie on the very Friday of it’s release, the video days look like a God’s gift to the film industry. The problem lay elsewhere…
Warning: Post contains strong language and sexual content.
Warning: Strong Language and Sexual Content. It was 1985. Indira Gandhi had been assassinated about a year ago. I was consistently in a state of depression. No not because of the tragic demise of Mrs. Gandhi, but because of some kind of chemical locha in my head. Unfortunately Munnabhai had not yet come alive. He would 20 years later. That year, Sanjay Dutt had just returned from the US (I think) after his long haitus, getting himself treated in the US of A to get rid of his drug problem.
It’s out of control. Everyone is on the streets waving their laptops and desktops, furiously typing in their next blog to kick ass. Every Friday with every new movie. It’s as if all the frustrations and anger and whatever acid they pour in their morning cup of tea, coffee or brewery - all of it comes out in a yellowish to red puke form on the reviews of the latest movie.